This Is Our Time
by Megstiel's Daughter
Summary: Dean is on his own when John goes off on a hunt and decides to find a case for himself, that's when he meets Beverly, a hitch-hiker who somehow manages to convince Dean to bring her along. Full Summary inside.
1. Wherever You Will Go

_**Summary:**_ Dean is on his own when John goes off on a hunt and decides to find a case for himself, that's when he meets Beverly, a hitch-hiker who somehow manages to convince Dean to bring her along. "Why should we have any responsibilities? We're practically still kids! We should be having one night stands, falling in love and just getting in the car and driving anywhere and everywhere. This is the time to be young and stupid! This is our time!"

 **N/A:** So this is a Dean/OC story and it begins before the series starts, if you hadn't guessed by my summary.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Supernatural.

* * *

 _If I could, then I would; I'll go wherever you will go. Way up high or down low; I'll go wherever you will go._  
\- Wherever You Will Go, The Calling

* * *

Dean

Found a case in Ohio. Call you when it's done. Find a case.

\- Dad

That was the note that John Winchester left on the desk in the tiny motel room that he was sharing with his son.

Dean hadn't thought much of it. His father had been going on solo hunts more frequently than not ever since his youngest son 'quit' the family business and went off to Stanford, leaving Dean to hunt on his own or wait for John to come back.

Dean had just simply packed up his things and went out to the Impala that his father had left for him, threw the bag in the trunk and left the tiny town, watching it disappear in the rear view mirror.

Half an hour into his trip, Dean turned on the cassette player and a smile came to his face when Survivor's 'Eye of the Tiger' came on. He hadn't heard the song in what seemed like forever even though the cassette sat in his car collecting dust.

"Risin' up," Dean started. "Back on the street. Did my time, took my chances...Went the distance, now I'm back on my feet. Just a man and his will to survive. So many times, it happens too fast. You trade your passion for glory."

Dean tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove, music never failed to bring up his mood. "Don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past, you must fight just to keep them alive."

Just as he was ready to move into the kick-ass chorus, something on the side of the road caught his eye, but he was too far to see what it was. He stopped the tape and focused on the figure on the side of the road until he was nearly twenty feet away and now realized what it was.

It was a woman, maybe early twenties like Dean. He couldn't tell what color her eyes were from so far away naturally, but he could see just a bout everything else.

Her brown hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and her denim shorts were cut raggedly and cut high , right along with her painted American flag tank top. She had a green jacket tied around her waist, and a brown rucksack was sitting on the ground next to her worn brown ankle cowboy boots.

From the thumb she had waving at him, Dean came to the conclusion that she was a hitchhiker.

He thought about just driving past her, but she was hot, and Dean wasn't exactly known for his good judgement when it came to the female species.

He slowed the Impala down and stopped a few feet ahead of her. Through his rearview mirror Dean saw he pick up her bag from the ground before walking to the car and getting into the front seat. She tossed her bag into the backseat before turning to face Dean who, upon closer inspection, realized her eyes were a nice honey brown color and he could see tinges of red in her hair.

"How far do you need go?" He asked and she grinned at him.

"Where are you going?"

"Lebanon." She nodded.

"Then I'm going to Lebanon." She said pulling the door close.

Dean pulled away from the side of the road and continued on driving down the road. The brunette in his passenger seat could only stare out of the window at the passing trees for so long before the silence became awkward. Dean tried to fix it by turning on the radio, but quickly switched it off when the beginning of a Spice Girls song began playing.

Silence lasted for another five minutes before the brunette spoke. "I'm Beverly." She introduced and Dean glanced over at her.

"Dean Winchester." Her eyebrows went up.

"Like the gun?" He nodded. "Groovy." Dean grimaced.

"Did you just say groovy?" He asked looking over at her. "Who says groovy anymore?" Beverly scoffed.

"It's not my fault." She claimed. "I was raised by hippies. Those kind of things are hardwired into my brain." She held up two fingers in the peace sign. "Peace, love, happiness and all that crap." Dean couldn't help, but laugh and Beverly hit him on the shoulder. "Don't laugh!"

Dean shook his head. "I'm not." He claimed looking over at her. "But this explains the tie-dye." Beverly looked down at her tank top and then back at Dean who had returned his eyes to the road.

"And who raise you, Mr. I'm-Too-Good-For-The-Spice-Girls?" She asked. "You look like a cross between Smoky the bear and the guy off the Bounty towels wrapper."

"Hey!" Dean said. "Smoky raised me the best he could." Beverly let her head fall back against the head rest as she laughed.

"You're not what I was expecting at all." She confessed and he quirked an eyebrow.

"And what were you expecting when you jumped into a stranger's Impala?" Beverly shrugged.

"Some hard ass who couldn't take a joke." She confessed. "That's what I usually get, but I honestly figured that you'd try and hit on me, that's also what I usually get."

Dean pursed his lips. "Well the night's not over." He reminded her and she shook her head. After a moment or two of silence, a thought popped into Dean's head. "So..." He began. "What's a girl like you doing hitch-hiking her way to Lebanon?"

"A girl like me?" Beverly asked. "What do you mean a girl like me?"

"A girl who was raised by hippies and doesn't think there's anything wrong with tie-dye or the Spice Girls." Dean joked before shaking his head. "No, I mean a girl like you, who seems like she just...doesn't know where she's going."

Beverly shrugged. "I don't." She admitted. "Know where I'm going, I mean. I'm just..." She she shook her head, not bothering to even lift it from the headrest. "Floating, I guess."

"Any particular direction?" She shook her head again.

"No...but I figure I'll probably know when I get there, right?"She turned her head towards him. "What about you?" Beverly asked. "You know where you're going?"

Dean shook his head. "Most likely to hell, but I figure I've got a decade or two before I get there." The grin returned to Beverly's face as her brown eyes searched Dean's.

"Well then..." She said as he glanced over at her. "I guess, I'll keep you company until then."

* * *

 _ **N/A:**_ So that was chapter one. You've met Dean and Beverly and you can kind of see where their heads are at this point in the story.

Just you you know, the story stars a couple of years before the series. Let's say around the time Sam went off to college. Any questions put in the form of a review will be answered next chapter, but do feel free to PM me if needed or wanted.


	2. Hero

Dean is on his own when John goes off on a hunt and decides to find a case for himself, that's when he meets Beverly, a hitch-hiker who somehow manages to convince Dean to bring her along. "Why should we have any responsibilities? We're practically still kids! We should be having one night stands, falling in love and just getting in the car and driving anywhere and everywhere. This is the time to be young and stupid! This is our time!"

 **So, how long has it been since you guys got an update? Let me see...checking...checking...whoa. A year, five months and two days. I'm so sorry.**

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Supernatural. Only Beverly.

* * *

 _I can be your hero, baby. I can kiss away the pain. I will stand by you forever. You can take my breath away._  
\- Hero, Enrique Iglesias

* * *

The ride to Lebanon was three hours and by the time the Impala made it into town, Beverly had fallen asleep. Dean toyed with the idea of waking her up and telling her to hit the road, but he knew he wasn't exactly that type of guy, especially with a hot chick. If it was a guy, maybe...

Instead, Dean stopped in the parking lot of a diner and went inside. He hadn't woken up Beverly, he just left her in the car and made sure to lock the doors. Once inside the diner, Dean chose the booth by the window that looked directly out to the impala and sat down. As soon as he did, a waitress (cute, blonde, and definitely over eighteen; basically Dean's type) came up to the booth with a pen, a pad and an alluring smile.

"What can I get for you?" She asked and Dean returned her smile.

"What's good..." He asked, his eyes looking up and down her body before his eyes landed on her name tag. "Janine?"

"You might like the Breakfast Plate." She suggested, biting her lip. "Eggs, bacon, pancakes, sausage-"

"Sold." She grinned. "I'll take two and two coffees." Now she was confused.

"You're gonna eat all that by yourself?" She asked. Dean pointed back out the window with his thumb and Janine looked out of the window to see he was pointing at the black car in the parking lot, or more specifically, the brunette sleeping in the passengers seat. When she saw Beverly her expression turned to one of disappointment. "Oh...Is she your..."

Dean noticed the questioning tone of Janine's voice. "Oh, no." He said immediately. "She's uh..she's just my sister." He lied. "We're heading to Allentown to visit our parents."

The smile returned to Janine's face. "That's sweet." She said. "But, now I'm at a disadvantage." She realized. "You know my name, but I don't know yours."

Dean gave her the most charming smile he could. "Dean."

"Well, Dean." Janine began. "I'll be back with your order."

Dean was not ashamed to admit that he watched Janine's backside as she walked back to the kitchen and he was pretty sure she was putting a bit more swing into her step just for him. "Stop watching the waitress's ass, you perv." Dean righted himself to see Beverly, messy hair and she had shed her loose flannel leaving her only in her cutoff jean shorts and white tank top, sliding into the booth. She didn't seem to care that anyone who looked hard enough could see her black bra through the thin material of her shirt.

"Well, good morning, Snow White." Dean greeted as a waitress came by with two cups of coffee and set one in front of each of the pair. "Thanks."

"How long was I asleep?" Beverly asked grabbing a handful of sugar packets and began ripping them open and emptying them into her cup, one by one.

"About ten hours." Dean told her. "Did you know that you hum in your sleep?" He asked and she bit her lip as she nodded.

"An old boyfriend or two might have mentioned that." She confessed tossing aside an empty sugar packet. "What was I humming?"

Dean shook his head. "I don't know." He lied picking up his coffee cup and taking a drink. Beverly picked up the spoon that sat on the right side of the table along with a fork and knife before mixing the sugar into her coffee. Dean looked at the pile of empty packets and figured she must have put ten of them in there. "So why did you need to come to Lebanon?"

Beverly looked up from her coffee and quirked an eyebrow. "What brings you to Lebanon?" She asked back and Dean gave her a look that clearly conveyed his next sentence.

"What are you, four?" He asked. "And I asked first."

"Now who's four?" Beverly asked with a smirk and Dean rolled his eyes. "Like I told you yesterday; no particular reason. I'm just trying to find my way...find myself. " Dean snorted and Beverly narrowed her eyes. "Really?"

"I'm sorry," He apologized. "It's just...that was the most cliche, chick-flick, flower child, let's-braid-each-other's-hair thing you could have possibly said."

"Well, I'm sorry that my reason for hitch-hiking with total strangers isn't as manly and...and amazing as whatever your reason is." Beverly propped her chin up with her hand. "What is your reason for coming to Lebanon? You haven't told me what yours is yet."

Dean shook his head. "No." There was no way in hell he was telling a total stranger that he was in town to take out a shape shifter who was killing parents and kidnapping kids.

"C'mon," Beverly whined. "I told you mine. you have to tell me yours."

"Absolutely not." Dean shook his head again and picked up his cup. "There are some things that people are better off not knowing."

"You're seriously not going to tell me?" She asked and Dean nodded.

"Seriously." Beverly sighed.

"Fine," She said picking up her own cup. "But I'll find out"

Dean cleared his throat. "You do that."

"Oh, I will." Beverly told him, sounding as serious as she could, but Dean couldn't take her seriously. He honestly doubted that she was going to spend her day trying to figure out what he was doing with his. Dean was a stranger to Beverly and she was a stranger to him. They, most likely, would never see after today.

"Here are your breakfast plates." The waitress announced, setting two plates on the table. Dean noticed that she was not the same waitress he had been flirting with earlier.

"Where's the other girl?" He asked.

"You mean Janine?" He nodded. "She had to step out, but she'll be back in a few minutes." She explained digging a hand into the front pocket of her apron and producing a folded up piece of paper. "She asked me to give this to Dean. That's you right?"

She went to give it to Dean, but Beverly intercepted it. "I'm Dean, actually." She lied and both Dean and the waitress gave her looks of confusion. "Short for Deena. Dad wanted a boy." She explained to the waitress who looked unsure, but took her word before walking away.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked as Beverly unfolded the note.

"'Dean,'" She read out loud. "' _Have to go pick up my son, but be back in ten minutes.'_ " Dean's face blanched and Beverly didn't even try to hide her smug smirk. "Looks like someone's gonna be a daddy. Surprise," She said tossing the note next to his plate before picking up her knife and fork. "It's a boy."

Dean practically breathed in his food before throwing his credit card down on the tablet and getting up.

Beverly picked up the card. "Aren't you gonna need this?" She called as he hightailed it towards the door.

"Keep it." Dean called back. He needed a new one anyway, he had applied for that one, what had to be, months ago. His dad would call him sloppy if he found out. John had decided that they'd throw out their cards after one month and one month only.

Dean kept going and pushed his way through the door, but didn't even start his walk to the Impala before he heard Janice's voice call out.

"Dean!" He turned around to see Janine coming toward him and clutching her apron was a kid, maybe five years old, with dark hair and his thumb stuck into his mouth. Dean put on his best smile.

"Hey..." He drug out as she stopped just two feet in front of him. Janine's eyes looked behind him and her face fell a bit when she realized he was heading to his car.

"Are you going somewhere?" She asked. Not wanting to hurt her feelings, Dean quickly shook his head.

"I was just..." He jabbed his thumb back at his car, trying to thinking of an excuse. "I was just, uh...uh..."

Fortunately for Dean, he was saved from trying to give the blonde an explanation when Beverly came bounding out of the diner with Dean's credit card shoved into the front pocket of her shorts. Dean saw the look on her face; it clearly said You're lucky I'm here and a second later she had plastered a giddy, not-a-care-in-the-world grin onto her face before rushing over to Dean, Janine and the shy little boy.

"Hey-" But that's all Dean got out before Beverly grabbed him by the front of his flannel and pulled him into a kiss.

Dean's right hand instinctively went to her hip as Beverly pulled him closer. He couldn't help but notice how soft her lips were and the fact that they tasted like syrup and way too sweet coffee.

But Beverly pulled away just as Dean was getting into it and tucked herself into his side before sending a megawatt smile to Janine. "Baby, who's this?" She asked looking Janine up and down.

"U-Uh..." Dean stuttered. That kiss had really thrown him off his game. Realizing he wasn't going to be spitting anything out, Beverly held her hand out towards Janine.

"I'm Bev." She introduced. "Dean's fiancee." Janine's eyebrows went up at that.

"Fiancee?" She asked before looking to a confused and flustered Dean. "I thought you said that she was your sister?" Beverly looked to Dean. That was harder to work with, but she not impossible.

"Ooh..." She purred and Dean jumped when Beverly smacked his ass. "That's kinky." She said moving her arms around his neck. "I love it." Beverly pulled herself closer to Dean before shoving her tongue in his mouth and his hands immediately went to her waist. Who was he to complain if a beautiful woman made out with him?

Beverly kept kissing the blonde until she heard the sound of Janine awkwardly walking away. She opened her eyes and looked towards the door just as Janine slammed it closed. That's when Beverly pulled away from Dean and went around him to the passenger side of his car. Dean just stood there trying to figure out what had just happened.

"Are you coming?" He heard Beverly call and he nodded.

"Yea-" He cleared his throat, not liking the sound that came out. "Yeah...Yeah, coming." He said before turning around and realizing that Beverly was in his car. "Oh, no..." He said going to the side of the car and opened the door to the passenger seat. "You thought you were pretty sneaky, huh?" He asked as Beverly sighed and got out of the car. "You're not coming with me."

"I don't want to come with you." She informed him. "Just tell me why you're in Lebanon and I'll be out of your hair for good." Dean shook his head.

"No way." He said slamming the door shut before going around the car and getting inside. "Just hitch another ride and go...find yourself.

"I'm gonna find out." Beverly called over the sound of the Impala's engines and Dean shook his head.

"Sweetheart," He said. "We're never gonna see each other again after today." He told her before pulling his door shut and pulling out of the parking space. Beverly crossed her arms as she watched him driver out of the parking lot. It wasn't until he was out of sight that she realized something.

"I let my bag in his car."

* * *

Dean couldn't believe his luck.

It had taken him less than a day to track down the shifter. He had simply used his fake FBI badge to make the local cops believe it was a federal case and they had been more than willing to hand over everything they had. He figured, unlike departments in bigger cities like New York and Los Angeles, they care more about getting the kids back rather than getting credit for finding them.

Seven kids had been taken from seven different families and it hadn't taken Dean long to figure out the pattern. Each kid was from a broken family; divorce, death, things like that and the remaining parent had gotten remarried. The problem was, all of the stepparents couldn't be found after the murders and kidnappings had taken place. Dean would bet his car that the shifter was each one of the 'Stepparents'.

It was through sheer luck that Dean had answered the phone at the police department when a kid called and started crying because her stepdad was hurting her mom. He had made up some excuse about calling his boss before hightailing it out of there and to the kids house.

Dean had stopped a few doors down from the house when he saw a thin, brunet man carrying an unconscious kid out of the front door. All he wanted to do was jump out and put a bullet between it's eyes, knowing that the man had to be the shifter, but Dean knew that he had to stay back and follow them if he had any hope of finding the rest of those kids.

So after half an hour of driving, the small silver car Dean was following stopped and pulled into the garage of an abandoned house in the shadier part of town. It didn't even bothering to close the garage door before getting the kid out of the backseat and taking her into the house.

Dean was only a few seconds from getting out of the car when suddenly the passenger side door opened and Beverly got in. Dean stared at her in confusion and surprise while she just gave him a smile.

"What are you doing here?!" He demanded. "I thought I told you to get lost!"

"You did." Beverly nodded before grabbing her bag from where it sat in the backseat. "But you kidnapped my bag. Considering that everything that I own is inside, I couldn't just leave it." Dean ran his hand over his face.

"You should not be here." Beverly looked around with furrowed eyebrows, taking in the multiple condemned and abandoned houses in the cul-de-sac.

"Where is here?" She asked. "Why are you parked in front of a crack house?"

Dean sighed, trying to think of the easiest lie that would get her out of his car and on her way. "I'm a drug dealer." He lied. "This is where I keep my stash."

He didn't like the way Beverly stared at him; her eyes flickering all over his face as if they were searching for the truth. "You're lying." She decided finally and Dean raised an eyebrow.

"No, I'm not." He denied immediately, but Beverly nodded her head.

"Yes, you are." She shot back.

"No," Dean denied once more. "I'm not."

Beverly rolled her eyes, wondering why he continued to lie to her. "Dean, I've been a foster kid my entire life." She told him. "I know when people are lying to me. They lied when they said my parents would come back for me one day, they lied when they said I'd find a good family and they lied when they said they'd take care of me..." She looked him directly in the eye. "And you are lying to me and I don't appreciate it. So stop and tell me what the hell is going on."

Dean didn't know what to say to that. Other than his little brother, he had never had someone call him out on his lying before. His dad didn't really care unless he knew lying would hurt Dean and Bobby usually let him get away with it. Dean figure the Beverly telling him something about her had something to do with why he did what he was about to do. He liked her, he wanted to protect her.

"I'm really sorry about this." He said and Beverly raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Sorry about wh-" But she slumped down in her seat and her head snapped to the side before resting against the window when Dean hit her. He hadn't done it to hurt her and he doubt that he had broken any bones, but just by looking at her he knew it would bruise and she would be pissed when she finally woke up.

"Sorry, again." He apologized before locking the doors and getting out of the car.

Now it was time for him to deal with the shifter.

As fast as he could, Dean went to the front door and looked around to make sure no one was around to see him before he quickly picked the lock and went inside.

Shutting the door behind him, Dean pulled out his gun before moving through the house. To his luck, nothing squeaked or creaked so he was able to make his way through the downstairs of the house before he began to move upstairs.

He had just cleared the bathroom when he heard heavy footsteps clomping their way up the stairs. Not having anywhere else to go, Dean quickly closed the door to the bathroom before hiding himself in the shower. Thankfully it had a shower curtain and not frosted glass.

Whoever, or whatever, had come upstairs decided to join Dean in the bathroom and it wasn't long until he heard the sound urination and then flushing. He got nervous when he didn't hear anything else and considered taking a peak to see if whoever was there had left.

Before he even got the chance, Dean was suddenly grabbed around his middle and he flailed when the shower curtain wrapped around him and he was tossed onto the floor.

"Crap..." He groaned looking up at the large, muscular man that stood above him. He had to have been three times Dean's size and and Dean wasn't liking the sight of the protruding veins going down the guys arms. They just made him extra nervous.

Fortunately, the bathroom wasn't ridiculously small. Dean had enough room to roll out of the way before a large boot came down heading for his head. He quickly got off the ground, but as soon as he was up, the shifter grabbed him by the front of his shirt and threw him straight through the bathroom door.

Ignoring the pain in his back, Dean got up only to dodge a punch that was thrown at him and then another. Testing his luck, Dean threw his own punch and it hit the shifter in the face, but Dean was pretty sure he hurt himself more than he hit the shifter. He threw another, but it was dodged and when the shifted came back up, he grabbed Dean and threw him...again.

Dean hit a wall and immediately reached for his gun before he realized it wasn't tucked into his jeans anymore. One look past the shifter and Dean saw that his gun was sitting in the middle of the bathroom floor. "Dammit!"

A plan quickly formulated itself in Dean's head and the blonde had no choice but to let the shifter punch him a few times to make it seem like he was losing. Once he had been hit to the floor and the shifter was advancing on him, Dean went for the once place he knew the shifted was vulnerable.

The shifted let out a deep groan and hunched over when Dean's foot made contact with his family jewels and Dean wasted no time before pushing himself off of the floor and rushing to the bathroom. The shifted had just turned around when three bullets found their way into it's chest.

Dean had doubt in his mind that the shifter was dead, but he also knew it wasn't long before someone called the cops.

He quickly made his way to the basement, the only level of the house he hadn't searched, and he heard the sounds of crying children before he even started down the stairs.

There were, as expected, seven kids; three boys and four girls. The eldest was a boy who, according to police reports, was named Steven and was thirteen. The youngest was a baby. Dean knew the others too; Amanda Berkeley who was three, Fabian Hernandez who was six, Riley Lowman who was eight and Jessica Roth who was also ten. When he had told their families that he was FBI, a little old lady had begged him to find her daughters baby. He couldn't help but go through all of their files.

"Are you guys okay?" He asked, but got no answer.

"Where's Duncan?" The boy, Steven asked, pushing the younger kids behind him protectively. Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Who's Duncan?" He asked.

"My stepdad." Steven answered. "Did you kill him? I know he killed my mom." Dean didn't know what to say to that. He just knew he needed to get the kids out of the basement.

"I don't know where he is." Dean lied. "I didn't shoot anybody, but I need to get you guys to the police station." He walked forward and Steven didn't object when Dean took the baby from Jessica and began back towards the stairs while Amanda grabbed at his hand.

"Wait!" Steven demanded and Dean turned back around. "What about the woman?" He asked and Dean internally groaned, knowing the answer to his next question.

"What woman?" He asked and Jessica answered.

"My stepmom." She said. "She went upstairs, but didn't come back." Of course there were two shifters. Dean could never catch a break.

"I heard a car drive away." Steven offered and Dean rushed over to the small window that gave him a view of the driveway. He paled as everything came to him at once; There were two shifters. One was dead and the other had ran off with Dean's car...

...And Beverly.

-(O)-

When Beverly woke up, she had no idea where she was.

She was laying on a bed with a very uncomfortable mattress and ugly comforter with questioning stains on it. The walls were an ugly orange color and the carpet with brown shag. The room was lit by only a lamp on the beside table and a flickering florescent light on the ceiling.

She didn't remember how she got there.

The last thing she did remember was that she was trying to track down Dean's impala to get her stuff back. She had followed him to some crack house and then...nothing. Why couldn't she remember?

"Hey," A voice said and Beverly looked up to see Dean coming out of the bathroom wearing only a pair of jeans. His hair was damp and Beverly could see that his muscular chest was still wet. "You're awake."

"What happened?" She asked as Dean sat down on the bed next to her and her hand immediately went to her cheek. "Why does my face hurt?"

"You fell," Dean said quickly. "Hit you head and knocked yourself out cold. Leaving you out on the sidewalk would not have been a very chivalrous thing to do, so I brought you here."

Chivalrous? Beverly hadn't known Dean long, but she knew his well enough to know that chivalrous was, most likely, not in his vocabulary. "Thanks." She said warily. Dean stared at her a few moments and said nothing. It was beginning to weird her out. "I know you don't want me sticking around, so I'll be out of your hair soon. I just need to get my stuff from your car."

Beverly went to move off of the bed, but Dean's hand shot out and grasped her by the arm, stopping her movements. "I do." He said confusing her. "Want you to stick around, I mean."

"That's not what you said earlier." She reminded him with a smile. "It's okay. I mean, I get it; we just met and we don't know each other. I wouldn't want a hitch-hiker that I just met hanging around me either. I mean, I could be a mur-" But before she could finish her rambling, Dean's lips were on top of hers.

He had taken her by surprise, so he managed to get his tongue into her mouth, but Beverly tried to push him away. "Dean," Her voice was muffled by his lips and she pulled her face away from his, but he wasn't deterred. His lips simply went to the crook of her neck. "Dean, stop."

"Why?" He asked in between kissed, paying no mind to her objections. "You want this, he wants this."

"I don't even know you." Beverly said and her heart sped up when his hands went to the hem of her tank top. "Dean, stop!" When he didn't, Beverly pulled up her knee as hard as she could and she heard Dean groan. Beverly had an idea of what she hit, but she didn't stick around to confirm it.

Rushing to the door, she pulled it open only for Dean to push it closed behind her. She had no idea how he had gotten up so fast. He grabbed her around the middle and threw her onto the floor. She groaned as she rolled onto her side, as her head had hit the ground first.

"He wants you, you know." Dean said as she blinked. Beverly had hit her head hard and was more than a bit disoriented. "That's good because that's gonna make this a whole lot easier."

"Let me go." Beverly groaned as she tried to crawl away, but Dean grabbed her arms and pinned them above her head before laying his body on top of hers.

"I just wanted a family." Dean said quietly, running his finger over her face and Beverly flinched away. "All I've ever wanted was a family of my own, but that damn Winchester had to come in and ruin everything."

"You're crazy." Beverly decided, realizing that he was referring to himself in third person. Her head was still pounding but she knew she had to get away from the nut job that was Dean Winchester when one of his hands slid into her jeans. She kept a knife in her boot for exactly this reason, but how was she going to reach it? Dean was right on top of her and hand her legs pinned down with his own.

Beverly had just come up with the brilliant idea of biting him, but two sharp knocks on the door pulled both of their attentions away from each other. Beverly quickly opened her mouth to scream for help, but Dean covered his hand with his own, muffling her yells.

"Who is it?" He called as Beverly wriggled underneath him.

"Manager." The person on the door called back. "Open up."

"Just a minute." Dean replied before looking down into Beverly's brown eyes. "Sorry about this, sweet cheeks." He apologized before bringing his fist down on her face and everything went black.

* * *

"Yeah?" The shifter asked as he opened the door, only to come face to face with a guy- most likely in his mid-twenties- who looked like he would rather be anywhere than where he was.

"Sir, I've gotten complaints from the other guests." The manager said. "If you don't keep it down, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave." Holding up his hand in surrender, the shifter nodded.

"Sorry." He apologized. "The missus had a bit too much to drink and knocked a few things over." The manager narrowed his eyes before giving a nod and leaving. God forbid he actually had to do his job.

The shifter waited until he was out of sight before closing and locking the door. Then he started towards the bathroom.

"Oh, Beverly!" He sang putting his hand on the doorknob only to find that it was locked. It was only a bit surprising, seeing as he hadn't expected Beverly to wake up so soon, but he wasn't worried. She had no where to go.

Gripping the doorknob harder, the shifter used his strength to twist it and grinned at the sound of the lock breaking. If that didn't scare Beverly, he doubted anything else would.

He slowly pushed the door open, expecting to see the brunette huddled in the bathtub, but instead was treated to the sight of an empty bathroom and an open window.

* * *

Beverly was amazing at running.

She had been doing it all her life; physically and metaphorically, so why wouldn't she be? The ropes, however, were a different story. Handcuffs she could get out of, but the knots around her wrists were some next level Boy Scout type stuff, so she had no choice, but to waste a few moments bending her knees so she could put her hands in front of her before she started running.

She'd figured that someone would help her. If you saw a woman running with her hands tied behind her back in the middle of the night, you'd try to help her, right?

Wrong, because apparently no one came out after midnight in Lebanon; all the surrounding shops were dark and the only light sources were the streetlamps and the stoplights that faced the deserted roads.

Not knowing what else to do, Beverly simply kept running down the street, hoping that Dean wouldn't come out of the motel before she was out of sight. She couldn't risk screaming when there wasn't a chance that he knew she was missing yet.

Beverly ran as fast as she could, making it to the row of shops that lines the street, only to be pulled into an alley by a hand. She immediately went to scream as she tried to get away, only for another large hand to cover her mouth. Thrashing was a bit hard with her hands tied in front of her, but her legs still worked fine.

"Calm down." The sound of Dean's voice only made her struggle harder as she tried to get away. "Chill, Bev." He ordered as he turned them around and pressed her against the wall, successfully stopping her thrashing. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

Pulling his hand off of her mouth, he turned her around so she was leaned against the brick alley wall and she glared at him. _'If looks could kill...'_ Dean thought.

"Says the man that hit me," She spat and Dean flinched at the malice in her voice. "Twice." Now he was confused. He wouldn't deny knocking her out the first time, but he knew he wasn't responsible for the split lip and the bruise forming on her right cheek.

"Dammit." It all made since now, why Beverly was both afraid of him and pissed at him, why she thought he hit her; the damn shifter had taken his appearance. "Look, Bev." He began and she glared at him harder. "I know this sounds crazy, but it wasn't me."

"I was right." Beverly whispered. "You are insane. I knew hitch-hiking would be the way I go." Dean realized that this wouldn't be easy to explain; usually when he was on jobs, people believed him because they witnessed him ganking a ghost or a werewolf, but Beverly hadn't witnessed anything. All she knew was that Dean knocked her out in that car and someone who looked just like him had hit her again. "To think that I was actually going to sleep with you!"

"Beverly, it wasn't me. I swear." How would he possibly explain? "I wasn't the one who-" But Dean was cut off when two hands grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him back, throwing him against the parallel wall of the alley. The gun he held in his hand fell to the ground beside him.

Beverly screamed when she saw Dean hit...Dean? "What the hell?" She breathed as they continued to fight. She had no idea what was happening and she had a strong urge to run, but her legs just wouldn't move.

"Beverly, run!" One of the Dean's yelled just before he was punched in the face by the other Dean.

"Stay where I can see you!" He yelled as he pulled the first Dean into a choke hold. Beverly didn't know who to listen to; there were two Dean's, one good and one bad. How was she supposed to figure out which was the Dean who picked her up from the side of the road and the Dean who practically tried to rape her in the motel room.

'Calm down,' Beverly ordered herself as the two Deans struggled to get the other down to the ground. _'You can figure this out. You just need to remember something that'll tell you which Dean is the real Dean.'_ It couldn't be that hard. _'Okay...Dean was wearing jeans and a flannel and...both Deans are wearing jeans and a flannel.'_ Her only other option was to ask something- something only Dean would know, but what? She hadn't told him anything about herself.

"What did I tell the waitress?!" She asked suddenly. One of the Dean's stopped and looked at her in confusion.

"What?" He asked just as the other Dean took advantage of his distracted state and punched him in the jaw.

"When the waitress caught up to us in the parking lot with her kid!" Beverly flinched as one of the Deans hit the other in the gut. "What did I tell her?!"

One Dean put the other in a headlock. "You kissed me and told her I was you fiancee." The Dean holding the other Dean in the headlock said. That was right.

"Don't believe him!" The Dean in the headlock grunted before kicking at his double's leg, sending him to the ground where he got a swift kick in the gut. The standing Dean walked forward and took her by the arms. "He has my skin. Everything I know, he knows." He grunted as the other Dean pulled him away.

"Then what the hell do I do?!" She demanded, but got no answer. Knowing she couldn't stand around and do nothing, Beverly rushed over to where Dean's gun had fallen and picked it up. Shakily, she pointed it at the dueling duo. "Okay," She shuddered out quietly. "The Dean in the green flannel is the one that took me to that abandoned house. He knocked me out." She pointed the gun at him. "But the one in the red is the one that was with me in the hotel room." She pointed it at him. "Green shirt caught me when I ran." She pointed the gun back at the green shirted Dean only to point it at the other one just as she pulled the trigger.

A loud bang sounded through the alley and Beverly's arms burned from the sudden vibration that went through them. She didn't move as the red shirted Dean- the one who she had shot in the neck- clutched at his bleeding throat as he fell to the ground. The green shirted Dean looked to the red shirt in shock before looking to Beverly. She still had the gun pointed at the spot she had shot the red shirt, but didn't move as he advanced on her. Slowly and gently, he pried the gun from her hands before tucking it in the waistband of his jeans.

"How'd you know I was me?" He asked after a moment. Beverly swallowed.

"You caught me when I was running from the motel room." She reminded him. "You were wearing a red shirt at the motel so you wouldn't have changed just to come running after me." She lowered her eyes to the dead Dean. "Did I kill him?" She asked.

"Yeah," Dean nodded as he untied her binds. "But, if you didn't, he would've killed both of us and then went back for those kids."

"He just wanted a family." Beverly relayed, thinking of what the dead Dean had said at the motel. "That's why he took those kids...He just wanted a family." Not knowing what to say to that, Dean took one of her, now free, hands.

"C'mon," He pulled her away from the dead body. "We gotta go before the cops get here."


End file.
